Waiting For Hiko
by Technoelfie
Summary: Who is Hiko Seijuro? Does everything he touches REALLY turn into sake? The answers to this and more questions in a Shakespearean romancecomedysupernatural whodunnit. KK, AM, SM [discontinued]
1. Default Chapter

  
_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. Really, the rights to it belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Sony and others I don't remember right now.   
  
  
  
**A/N**: Reviews are most definitely welcome. Craved, even. Especially since this is my first Kenshin story -- I _need_ feedback, I really do. 

  
  
  


**~ Waiting For Hiko ~**

  


**_- Prologue -_**

  
  
The sun rose over the mountain, as it so often did, without incident. It was a summer sun, full of vibrant light and heat, and it sent powerful rays towards the lush greenery below, seeking to penetrate the dense cover of leaves.   
  
But the forest remained gloomy as always, allowing only the barest curtain of translucent, greenish light to filter through so it could feed the ferns and moss that covered the soft ground.   
  
More sunlight slanted through, seeking entrance, spilling over treetops and rare patches of grass, until it finally met with the wooden walls of a rickety hut. It stood at the center of a remote glade in all its lopsided glory, and an unkind observer would have noted that it fit right in with the gnarled, ancient trees and abundant vegetation, seeing as it was itself about two steps away from being a lump of metamorphic rock. But no observers seemed to be around, unkind or otherwise, and were also unlikely to appear seeing as the whole glade stood at the end of a path that was so overgown as to be nearly invisible.   
  
A few cautious rays skittered along the twisted wooden beams that made up the walls, the slanting, patched roof, and even over what looked like a discarded sake jug near the base of the door. Slowly, more light crawled over the run-down structure in dappled waves, inching ever closer towards the one window courtesy of a steadily ascending sun. . . and suddenly the first beam had entered the dark hole, probably expecting to play over wooden walls and dust bunnies and more discarded jugs. Instead it encountered, dark and scented . . .   
  
The gloom of the forest.   
  
Ivy crawled lazily over cave-like walls that were both too high and seemed to go on forever, and above all had a consistency that was curiously rock-like. It was a strange thing to find on the inside of _any_ hut, but especially one that on the outside appeared even smaller than its actual dimensions because of the way it had sunk in on itself.   
  
But even stranger were the inhabitants as they flitted from one end of the huge space to the other, sparks trailing comet-like in their wake. And the scent was strange as well, forest-heavy and fresh, with undertones of pine and wild blooms, and something darker still, hard to discern and even harder to name. . .   
  
Fairy dust sparkled in the half-darkness, but the place was too full of bustling activity to seem enchanted, even though few of the hard-working sprites had shapes that could be described as fully human. Many of them were animal spirits, mostly foxes with one or more tails and seductive human faces. All of them were tricksters.   
  
None of them dared to stray too far from the line, too aware of the king's hooded gaze following their every movement. He was there also, lounging nonchalantly on the wooden shadow throne, cradled among the branches of magical wood that knew everything the forest knew, and _whispered_ to him.   
  
All in all, he had taught them well. Only few words were needed to make his wishes known, but when that honeyed, faintly menacing voice was heard, all others fell silent.   
  
He motioned towards one of the foxes. "Azami," he said. All in all he did not seem to be a deity of many words, which would have surprised some who knew him, or thought they did.   
  
"Yeah, Azami. Tell us who's trying to take over the forest today. Sheesh, this is so _boring_," muttered a young cub, earning himself a hit over the head from one of his elders.   
  
The kitsune's far-seeing eyes narrowed in concentration. "A strong tanuki is headed this way, and some fool spirit has hogged the well down at the road bend."   
  
"Not for long," the king stated calmly. " Kamichi?"   
  
A small horned shape that had been content to lie in a corner suddenly stirred, hauling itself reluctantly unto what looked suspiciously like a goat's hind legs. "On my way," he muttered with little enthusiasm and in the tones of a half-deceased chain smoker. He took the time to scratch his round, hairy belly though, and also to slap Azami's backside on his way out.   
  
She hissed and snapped at him with fangs that were sharp and shiny, but her teeth met only thin air as the shapeshifter's firefly form skillfully evaded her and flew out into the forest. Then she pondered what it would have meant to have _any_ -- very probably hairy -- part of Kamichi's anatomy in her mouth, and gave a little shrug. "Just as well I didn't get him," she muttered. "Disgusting little lecher."   
  
"You've got _that_ right," muttered a chubby-faced cherub from his perch on a large stone. He was blond and rosy-cheeked, and diminutive enough to be confused with a newborn if not for the rough sailor's voice and the obscenely large cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth.   
  
Azami made a noncommittal noise. She might have hated Kamichi with his hairy belly and his lecherousness, but she wouldn't be caught dead agreeing with _this_ one. Not when she had tried to get rid of him so many times, only to be thwarted at every turn by his devious little mind. She positively loathed his foreign ways, his blond hair and his unpronounceable name, but none of the above half as much as his stupid sense of humour, his stinking cigars, and his -- she shuddered -- _singing_.   
  
If only the master weren't so fond of him . . .   
  
The elf smirked as he noted how one innocent remark had caused waves of almost palpable hostility to wash his way. He was sure he could nurture it a little more.   
  
"Master, shall I sing?" he asked in his best whiny voice. "Methinks the mood needs a little lightening up."   
  
"Please don't," came the dry answer from the shadows. "My ears are still trying to recover from the last time." Mustardseed pouted, although it had been delivered in a pleasant enough tone.   
  
Ah well, there was surely enough mischief to get into, and even more reasons to do so. For one, he could tease the halfling his master had last taken in. Yumi was clumsy, frail, and had less magic than the weakest kitsune. In other words, she was prey.   
  
"Oi, stupid," he started, relishing the fearful glance Yumi threw in his direction, only to be interrupted by an unexpected burst of ki in the vicinity. _Human_ ki, and he was not the only one who had noticed. He shut his mouth as the king rose, silencing the whole room with one shuttered glance.   
  
"Leave," he said quietly.   
  
A few curious glances were exchanged and then a swarm of fireflies rushed out of the window in a glittering shower, leaving the room empty. Well, _almost_.   
  
There was a quiet shuffle. Slow enough to make plain his displeasure at the interruption, the king looked up and into a pair of innocent moss-green eyes.   
  
"But why, master? We were making good progress, and . . ." she stopped as she raised her own gaze enough to get a good look at his eyes.   
  
The king sighed. "Because my baka deshi is climbing the path right now, Yumi, and I am _not_ going to greet him clothed in nothing more than leaves in my hair and a trail of ivy over my privates."   
  
He smiled over her blush, which betrayed her heritage even more effectively than her clumsiness. It was such a . . . _human_ thing to do.   
  
"Now be a good girl and go so I can clean this up. You can return by nightfall if I manage enough grouchiness to scare Kenshin away."   
  
She nodded earnestly. "Yes, master." He noted the reluctance with which her body shrank into a golden pinpoint of light, watched it sway a little drunkenly out of the ivy shrouded window. Hopeless, really. But endearing, in her own clueless way.   
  
Sighing again he waved his hand once and turned, surveying his surroundings. The inside of the hut once again matched the outside, with wooden, unpainted walls and furniture that was so sparse it was almost non-existent. At least there were several examples of truly magnificent pottery on the table, and several jugs of precious sake.   
  
He allowed himself a swig before enveloping himself in his signature white cape and walking out into the afternoon sun.   
  
The smile that greeted him was dazzling, both because of its warmth and the deep joy it expressed. "Shishou!"   
  
The man who was now again Hiko Seijuro allowed his eyes to soften a little. "Who did you expect?" he said gruffly. "It's not as if this were exactly a crowded neighbourhood."   
  
Kenshin just smiled. "Be that as it may, it's good to see you again, that it is. Truly, shishou."   
  
"That good, eh? I suppose you managed to bring a present this time, or is your illustrious presence all I get?" It was always a pleasure to see his baka deshi squirm, and this time was no exception.   
  
"No present, shishou," sighed the redhead. "Just an invitation -- one we all hope you'll accept."   
  
Hiko grinned. "We'll see about that." He threw a heavy wooden pail at his apprentice, who caught it with his characteristic dexterity. "You can go fetch water for now."   
  
"_Shishou!_" moaned Kenshin.   
  
"An apprentice should always make himself useful," Hiko announced in his most preachily annoying tones. "It's the least you can do for the decades of training I've--" he paused to smirk over the murderous look in Kenshin's violet eyes. "Well, I'll be inside. It would bore me out of my wits to wait on the porch until you've managed to drag your sorry ass back up here."   
  
Sighing, Kenshin started on his way. Muttering. "Yes, shishou. Whatever you say, shishou, _de gozaru yo_!"   
  
Hiko's gaze glittered green as it followed him down the path.   
  
  
_To be continued . . ._


	2. The Parting Of The Curtain

_Disclaimer:_ a) I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. The rights to it belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Sony and others I don't remember right now.   
  
b) The quotes I'm using at the beginning of each chapter are from William Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.   
  
  
  
**A/N**: First of all thanks for the reviews, and I apologize for the length of this chapter -- the next one will be much longer, I promise (I know that because it's almost finished). *curses her stupid habit of jumping back and forth in the story while writing*   
  
Anyway, this is why I can also promise many interesting pairings starting with the next chapter, as well as a totally gratuitous Saitou/Tokio scene. Maybe it's not such a stupid habit after all . . .   
  
  
  
_Calger459:_ Thanks a lot for the review... You're right, too, the first half of the prologue was a little wordy. I'm trying to cut back on that a little. As to the play this story is (loosely) based on -- it's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, which, along with _The Tempest_ is my favourite Shakespeare play.   
  
_Aishiteru:_ You're definitely right!   
  
_mae:_ Happy you like it. :)   
  
_Unseen Watcher:_ Kenshin might still find out. :) As to Yu Yu Hakusho -- this is a series I've yet to watch, since I'm sort of new to anime. Not _that_ new, just newish.   
  
_Rhyein:_ (hope I spelled that right) Glad you like the idea of Hiko covered in ivy. I'm rather fond of that mental image myself . . . *fans herself* 

  
  
  
  


**~ Waiting For Hiko ~**

  
  


**_- Chapter 1: The Parting Of The Curtain -_**

  
  
  
_ We will meet; and there we may rehearse most   
  
obscenely and courageously. Take pains; be perfect: adieu. _   
  
  
Kenshin gaped open-mouthed at the slender, fragile object Hiko held out for his perusal. It was a narrow, soaring thing of deceptive simplicity, but Kenshin's expression indicated that he understood the subtlety well enough, and was awed by it. It was blue like the sky in summer. It was porcelain. It was priceless.   
  
"But shishou, _you_ have--"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"But this kiln is not--"   
  
"Everything is possible when one is a genius," Hiko announced haughtily. "See that you don't drop it."   
  
The redhead, whose back was bent under the load of numerous packages, threw him a dirty look.   
  
"What? I am not my stupid pupil. I know when gifts are appropriate."   
  
"For the whole _neighbourhood_? It's only Okina's birthday, after all."   
  
"I am a generous man."   
  
"Whatever you say, shishou."   
  
"At least you've learned enough not to oro me all the time. I can't stand it."   
  
"Oro!"   
  
Hiko sighed. "Why am I even wasting my breath?"   
  
Kenshin gave him a lopsided smile. "I don't know shishou. Why are you?" Then he jumped, narrowly evading a slap to the back of his head.   
  
"Cheeky pupil! Has no one taught you manners? Stop sassing and lead the way!"   
  
"Hai!"   
  
Slap. "And don't try to be sarcastic either. It doesn't suit you."   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~@ 

  
  
"The king has left," announced a disgruntled Mustardseed that evening while crouching on the table in his master's hut and guzzling some of his best sake. The sullen looks he kept throwing Yumi indicated that he held her responsible and would take adequate measures to communicate his displeasure, but later, when there was no more sake to drink. His looks made clear who would get the blame for that, too.   
  
"What do we do?" asked Yumi timidly.   
  
Azame jumped to her feet, tails swishing. "Why, we _follow_ him, of course."   
  
Mustardseed frowned. The king was in Kyoto and the sake was here, and if asked who he'd rather have for company, the sake was definitely the winner. It was _damn good_ sake, really. One of the few good things about this wretched country, with its primitive animal spirits and small gods at every corner (and so full of themselves, too), and swords, and people hacking each other to bits . . . he discontinued that line of thought. He rather enjoyed watching people hacking each other to bits, even if his king didn't, and there was a regrettable lack of that in this Meiji era.   
  
And he missed England. And Greece. And India, and all the other places he had sincerely hated while he'd been there, but which now had the distant and sunny air of _home_. Greece had been particularly abominable now that he thought back to it (well, apart from the nymphs, who tended to run away screaming a lot), but that was in the past. Japan was being abominable _now_ -- apart from the sake, of course -- and there was no one he could make responsible.   
  
Ah, well, there was always Yumi.   
  
He took another sip of precious liquid. And he knew just who would carry the sake . . .   
  
He bestowed an evil smile upon Azame. "Kyoto it is," he said cheerfully. "Yumi? I'd like a word with you . . ."   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~@ 

  
  
"Kenshin! You're back!"   
  
Kenshin looked up weakly from under the mountain of packages strung to his back. "Kaoru-dono," he panted.   
  
A squeaky cry pierced his ears from somewhere in the vicinity. "And you brought _him_!" Okon and Omasu chorused excitedly. The rurouni winced, then smiled thankfully as Kaoru rushed over to relieve him of his load.   
  
"Kaoru-dono, you shouldn't . . ."   
  
"Nonsense, Kenshin. You look almost dead with exhaustion." She pulled determinedly on a large bag.   
  
"Oro!" He sidestepped out of reach, smiling sickly. "Careful, Kaoru-dono. Shishou'll have my head if any of this breaks."   
  
She huffed and pulled harder. "If _shishou_ thinks the stuff is so important, he could have carried it himself." She managed to lay down the bag without further incident, the attacked the rest of the load. "I see he's still as thoughtless as usual. Really, Kenshin. The man has no consideration for your health at all."   
  
Hiko raised an eyebrow. "The _man_ resents being discussed as if he weren't there." He smiled. "Good evening, Kamiya-san. I see you also haven't changed -- you are as ill-mannered as ever. It's frankly refreshing."   
  
"While you are as inconsiderate as ever. Kenshin's delicate, dammit!"   
  
"Oro?" _Kaoru-dono, I know you mean well, but could you try leaving my masculinity intact when you defend me?_   
  
Hiko grinned. "Now you're insulting him."   
  
Kaoru looked at Kenshin for support, but his pleading look indicated that he was hoping _this_ conversation had come to an end.   
  
"Whatever," she conceded. "The rest are back in the garden. I suppose we should join them before they get too drunk to notice you're here."   
  
Kenshin frowned. "Why the garden?"   
  
"Because of the fireflies for one, dummy. Misao thinks it's romantic enough to move even Aoshi."   
  
Okon and Omasu nodded enthusiastically.   
  
"Yahiko can throw up in the bushes instead of making a mess on the nice, clean floor," Kaoru continued, ignoring the melting glances the female ninjas were gracing Hiko with, "and it's about the only place Okina could hang up his _whole_ collection of paper lanterns."   
  
Kenshin was still stuck with the first part of her statement. "You're allowing Yahiko to drink? Kaoru-dono, sessha doesn't think that's such a good idea . . ."   
  
She waved that aside. "Okina insisted. Besides, I'm having him swing his bokken every half hour or so, to prove he's not drunk yet." She snickered. "It's very entertaining."   
  
"You are a merciless woman, Kaoru-dono . . ."   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~@ 

  
  
In the garden, the trees rustled softly in the barest whisper of a breeze.   
  
_ So he's here, indulging his little human charges. Interesting.   
  
Well, I don't really mind more playfellows. Especially not such pretty ones.   
  
So young, my pets . . . so human and fragile . . . so inconstant in your fancies. I'm sure we will play nicely together. _   
  
In the darkness, the fireflies danced.   
  
  
  
_To be continued . . ._   
  
  
  
__________________________________________   
  
  
_Translation of japanese terms:_   
  
_-dono_ (e.g. Kaoru-dono): outdated honorific, very formal   
  
_oro_: Kenshin's all-purpose word, very useful in maintaining the facade of a harmless and largely clueless little rurouni   
  
_rurouni_: wanderer   
  
_shishou_: teacher, master   
  
_sessha_: 'this unworthy one' (Kenshin refers to himself that way when he's in rurouni mode, which is most of the time) 


	3. Between The Cold Moon And The Earth

_Disclaimer:_ a) I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. The rights to it belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Sony and others I don't remember right now.   
  
b) The quotes I'm using at the beginning of each chapter are from William Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.   
  
  
  
**A/N**: **Meesa got a webpage!** (_www.technoelfie.de.vu_) It's for my Hiko doujin, so pleeease check it out. There isn't much, but I'll upload more drawings during the week, and I'd really love feedback. I know. I'm shameless. :)   
  
_lebleuphenix:_ Here it is. And everyone's in it (well, _almost_ everyone).   
  
_Rhyein:_ I _love_ your site, and I liked the drawings a lot. Hiko _is_ inspiring, isn't he?   
  
_mae:_ Banter? You ain't seen nothing yet . . . *cackles evilly*   
  
_Echidna:_ Well, I hope you'll like this chapter then. It's where the actual fun starts. :)   
  
_Gemini:_ Actually, I have this drawing of Hiko as a fairy king, but I've yet to scan it. And it needs coloring, too. *rubs hands* About Yahiko -- well, you could say I'm torturing the poor guy. You'll see. :)   
  
_Unseen Watcher:_ Nice to Kenshin? I'm trying . . . ;)   
  


  
  
  
  


**~ Waiting For Hiko ~**

  
  


**_- Chapter 2: Between The Cold Moon And The Earth -_**

  
  
  
_ That very time I saw, but thou couldst not,   
  
Flying between the cold moon and the earth,   
  
Cupid all arm'd. _   
  
  
The evening air was balmy, and the fireflies spun a twinkly web of light over the fragrant garden.   
  
Kenshin sighed. It was wonderful to sit here like this, together with his friends, together with _Kaoru_, who'd been so attentive all evening . . . he was starting to feel positively lightheaded. It might have had something to do with the way the fireflies danced and spun almost hypnotically.   
  
Something was different, but he was too content to try and find out what. Besides, there was no sense of danger -- just a warm fuzzy feeling and the way the lights danced in Kaoru's beautiful eyes, and Sanosuke's too, for that matter.   
  
Yahiko, too, looked different, but that was probably only because his eyes were starting to turn a little glassy, and _that_ had nothing to do with fireflies.   
  
Still, Sano's eyes were _decidedly_ different, so . . . glittery. What the--   
  
"Oi, jou-chan! Did I ever tell you what a sexy butt you have?" Sanosuke smiled, unrepentant, as Kaoru turned and pinned him with an icy glare. "Just like an apple, only more--"   
  
Kenshin's eyes flashed Battousai-gold. "Ignore the moron, Kaoru-dono. Not that he isn't _right_, but--" The rurouni stopped, horrified as slate-blue eyes narrowed, shifting their focus to him. "Sessha didn't _mean_ it that way, de gozaru," he almost wailed. "You are the most delicate of flowers, Kaoru-dono. Sessha only wanted to express his . . . _appreciation_ of your transcendent beauty, not to insult you."   
  
Kaoru caught herself blushing a little. She'd had a mind to use the bokken of swift and painful justice on both of them, but she somehow couldn't bring herself to do it when Kenshin insisted on saying such sweet things to her.   
  
Sanosuke, who had noticed her blush with disapproval seeing as it was directed at his rival, used the distraction to push Kenshin away and lean closer towards Kaoru's nonplussed face. "You sure are pretty enough to be a flower, missie," he drawled. "One I'd dearly love to pluck . . ."   
  
Yahiko had abandoned his exercises in the face of such interesting ongoings, and also because his eyes kept insisting he was holding two bokkens instead of one, which was definitely not true. Therefore he'd been watching the exchange with both interest and surprise (although he wished everyone would stop their infernal swaying), surprise he couldn't help voicing. He scratched his head. "You ssure y'all talking about busu?" he demanded suspiciously. "Ya know, _ugly_? Can't cook, sswears like a sea -- ship -- _thingy_ . . . Sss-sailor! I mean, whass come _over_ you guys?"   
  
Several deadly glares turned his way.   
  
"What?" he demanded. "I mean, it ssshould be clear to evvyone 'ere that Misao's the prettiest. Have you sseen that shmile? An' dat V-sign she keeps making . . ." he trailed off on a blissful sigh.   
  
Everyone was staring.   
  
"_What_?"   
  
"The boy is young, Kamiya-san," said a calm voice. "He cannot yet appreciate the true beauty of spirit that radiates from you like the brightest of beacons." Aoshi was smiling as he walked closer, only a faint curving of lips that managed to make him look both handsome and mysterious.   
  
He came to a halt directly in front of Kaoru, who seemed to have given up understanding anything for the time being and just stared vacantly at her surroundings. It wasn't quite clear how he managed to push Sanosuke away quite so effortlessly, but he did, and now he was trailing a finger slowly down Kaoru's cheek.   
  
"A flower? That I don't laugh," he said huskily. Kenshin growled. "Your beauty is nothing so ephemeral. You are like a star, a brilliant, blinding fire."   
  
"Hands off if you want to keep them, Shinomori," drawled a deep voice. "_Now._"   
  
Releasing the still dazed Kaoru, Aoshi turned to encounter a gaze that was now completely golden -- utterly feral.   
  
"Or what? I don't take commands from you, Battousai."   
  
"I ought to kill you right now for laying hands on her," hissed Kenshin.   
  
"I'd settle for breaking a few of your bones," Sano announced casually. "Take your pick, Shinomori."   
  
They stared at each other for a while, causing the air to almost crackle with tension.   
  
"Hey! Cut it _out_!"   
  
Kaoru had awakened. Not only that, but she had gone from utter slack-jawed astonishment to red-hot fury in record time and was now positively seething. Hands on her hips, eyes flashing, she was the quintessential avenging angel.   
  
"Magnificent," murmured Aoshi.   
  
Kaoru raised a hand. "Don't," she warned. "And don't come closer!" she spat at Sano and Kenshin who, sensing the former Okashira had fallen into disgrace, were moving in for the kill. "Now, I don't know whose _sick_ idea of a joke this is, but I'll let you all know that it's in _excessively_ poor taste!"   
  
Sano paled. "No, jou-chan, I'd never--" he swallowed. "Not about this," he whispered, giving her his best hurt-puppy look.   
  
Kenshin was more controlled, but his golden eyes narrowed nevertheless. "I don't make jokes about my woman," he announced in clipped tones. "And you are mine, Kaoru. _Only_ mine."   
  
This new Kenshin was sort of frightening -- in a perversely exciting way -- but Kaoru refused to back off as he approached, almost crowding her against a tree.   
  
"I know whose name you are whispering at night when you think no one hears you," he whispered hotly, "and it's not meditation man's."   
  
Kaoru gaped at him. However seductive he might be, he wasn't going to get away with this. She planted her hands on his chest and pushed. Hard. "Back _off_, Kenshin!"   
  
He stumbled a few feet away, but his gaze didn't lose its intensity.   
  
"Yeah, Battousai, back off," said Aoshi. "You're making a mess of this with your caveman tactics. Kamiya-san is delicate, in case you haven't noticed."   
  
He took Kaoru's hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. "Kamiya-san," he murmured. "_Kaoru_."   
  
Kaoru swallowed. _Man, this is scary . . ._   
  
"Kaoru, please. You are my light, my star."   
  
_He might be a weird recluse, but he sure talks pretty. And he's got beautiful eyes . . ._   
  
" You are everything that is pure and beautiful and I would never jest about how much you mean to--"   
  
"AOSHI-_SAMAAAAA_!" It was a wail, both horrified and incredulous.   
  
Everyone but Aoshi turned to look at the diminutive ninja girl who had entered the garden just in time to see her beloved Aoshi romancing another woman. Misao's eyes were wide as saucers and so filled with anguish that soft-hearted Sanosuke -- self-appointed protector of women -- reacted instinctively, pulling the distraught girl into his arms.   
  
Yahiko, who had rushed to comfort her but hadn't been fast enough since he kept tripping over his own, recklessly multiplying feet, skidded to a halt, sulking.   
  
"Now, now, Misao-chan, it's not so bad," Sano soothed. "Shinomori doesn't stand a chance with Kaoru. As soon as he realizes that, he'll come running back to you. You'll see."   
  
The girl raised a tear-streaked face from where it had been pressed against his naked chest. "Sanosuke . . ." she murmured, almost dreamily. "I never realized . . ."   
  
Aoshi looked deeply into Kaoru's eyes, ignoring Kenshin's murderous gaze. "I would never lie about how much you mean to--"   
  
"You are so handsome," whispered Misao dreamily. "And you _smell_ good . . ."   
  
"Kaoru . . . I wanted to tell you before, but I never--"   
  
"Oh, Sanosuke." the street fighter realized with horror that Misao's hands were inching steadily closer to his butt. "I should have noticed earlier how much--"   
  
"I love you, Kaoru."   
  
"Dammit, Aoshi-sama! How can you do that to meee . . ." Misao wailed, momentarily distracted from her preoccupation with Sanosuke's backside. "I love you, you know," she muttered reproachfully. Aoshi didn't spare her one glance, too busy with alternately admiring Kaoru and staring down Battousai.   
  
Sanosuke patted the ninja girl clumsily on the head. For some reason he felt unable to tell her that if she really loved Aoshi she was giving the wrong signals by pressing up _quite_ so tightly against his own body. "Now, Misao," he muttered, exasperated. "It's not your fault you can't compare to jou-chan. You'll get used to that eventually."   
  
"Ow! How can you say that . . ." She batted tear-filled eyes at him. "I'm used to Aoshi-sama ignoring me, he's an unfeeling clout after all. But you--" her voice lowered suddenly to uncharted, throaty depths that on her sounded more like the effects of a really bad cold, "you are so damn _sexy_!" She reached up, grabbing his head with ninja-speed and tilting up her own face dramatically. "_Kiss me_, Sanosuke."   
  
He clenched his eyes shut in the vain hope that he could make everything go away if he wished strongly enough. _This isn't happening to me. I'm **not** being assaulted by a little girl while jou-chan is being felt up by the walking dead and Kenshin is preparing to go Battousai on our collective asses. It's not happening. It's not--_   
  
"_Roosterhead._"   
  
Sanosuke bowed his head in defeat. _Just my luck. Not only am I not alone with jou-chan, but I'm also being pestered by the fox doctor from hell._   
  
"Do you need it so badly that you're resorting to seducing teenagers?"   
  
"Hey! I'm almost nineteen!" Misao protested.   
  
Sano gave up the attempts of evading the girl's pouting lips and turned the full force of his glare on the intruder.   
  
"Megumi," he began in crushing tones, "I'll let you know that jou-chan is the only one I want. Misao is just harassing me."   
  
"Awww," muttered the girl, hurt.   
  
"Another child," said Megumi dismissively as she approached him, hips swaying. "What you need is a _woman_," she murmured, trailing a hand up his leanly muscled arm.   
  
Sanosuke waited for the fox ears to appear, heralding a prank, but they remained conspicuously absent. He started to sweat.   
  
"Oh, Sanosuke, you smell so _nice_!"   
  
Kaoru shook herself out of the renewed stupor enough to frown at everyone. "That's enough!" she bellowed. "I don't know who put you up to this, and right now I don't care. I thought you were my _friends_," she added bitterly. "I'm going."   
  
She slapped Aoshi's hand away from her arm and glared at Sanosuke as he tried to bar her way, pulling both Misao and Megumi off balance in the process.   
  
"Jou-chan, no! It's not like--"   
  
"Don't jou-chan me, you big lug!" She turned to the woman doctor. "Megumi, I thought you at least were mature enough to keep out of this."   
  
"Friendship only goes so far, _jou-chan_," spat Megumi venomously. "Keep your hands off my man."   
  
"Right," echoed Misao. "Keep your hands off my Sano. And don't come near my Aoshi either, or I'll--" The rest of her threat was muffled as she snuggled her face into Sanosuke's arm. "Smell--so--nice," she muttered ecstatically.   
  
Kaoru turned on her heels, blinking an annoying tear away as she started towards the Aoiya with ground eating strides. Almost blind with tears as she reached the entrance, she didn't notice the pink-clad obstacle that barred her way until she stumbled face-first into a solid chest. Strong hands closed around her upper arms, steadying her.   
  
"You didn't really think you could run away from me, did you?" Kenshin asked lazily. "You are my woman, remember?" Using the pads of his thumbs, he brushed away the wetness gathering on her lashes. His golden eyes searched hers, softening slightly with satisfaction at whatever he saw there.   
  
"Kenshin, let me be," she demanded weakly. _Damn, why must he be so . . . **manly** all of a sudden? He's hard enough to resist when he's oro-ing me into an early grave, but now?_ She gasped as he brought his cheek down to rub silkily against hers. _Ken-shin. Don't do this to me, please . . ._   
  
"You're mine, Kaoru. All mine. And tonight I'll prove it to you."   
  
"Over my dead body," muttered the Oniwabanshuu leader who had suddenly appeared behind them, eyes narrowed in a rare display of anger.   
  
Kaoru blushed. _Just like Aoshi to sneak up on people like that, and I haven't even heard him . . . how far gone **am** I?_   
  
"Aw, Aoshi-samaaaa!"   
  
Kenshin pushed Kaoru behind his back. "That can be arranged."   
  
"Fine with me."   
  
Kaoru paled. "Guys, don't. Guys--"   
  
"This is all your fault, you hussy!"   
  
"Boys, _please_ . . ."   
  
"Hussy! Just go away, why won't you!"   
  
"Don't mind her, Kaoru-san. She's just a lanky teenager with nothing to recommend her apart from the fact that she's an annoying loudmouth."   
  
"Aoshi-_samaaa_ . . ."   
  
"_And_ has no breasts worth mentioning, too."   
  
"Damn, Sanosuke!"   
  
"What? It's the truth."   
  
"Well, it hurts!"   
  
"Yeah? That's what you get for insulting missie. And to think I wanted to be nice to you . . ."   
  
"Doncha lizzen to them, Mizzzao. I think your ba -- boo -- _breasts_'re very nice--"   
  
"_YAHIKO!_"   
  
Up in the trees a diminutive cherub snickered. Even without his master's sake to fall back on the evening was turning out to be fun -- which was quite astonishing considering he'd had no hand in the chaos that was slowly unfolding below. Luckily, his master had been dragged inside earlier by the two foolish women who insisted in fighting over him -- as if they had a chance. With all the commotion going on in the garden he'd come out soon to see what the trouble was, but probably not soon enough.   
  
Wings of darkness unfolded behind him, unnoticed by the spirit who was cackling with glee.   
  
_Not nearly soon enough. Oberon, Oberon, are you getting careless again? Did you already forget the lesson I taught you?_ Immaterial fingers curled pensively around a smiling mouth. _If so, I might have to remind you. And what better reminder is there than blood? Warm and sticky red, pulsing out of fresh wounds so deep even you can't do anything but watch the life of your little charges ebb away.   
  
Still, we are not entirely heartless. We will start . . . **elsewhere**._   
  
  
  
_To be continued . . ._   
  
  
  
_Translation of japanese terms:_   
  
_battousai:_ unsheathed -- also Kenshin's 'nickname' during the revolution, a time when he was a cold and impossibly skillful killer   
  
_jou-chan:_ Sano's endearment for Kaoru -- translated as 'missie' (I don't know if that's the actual meaning)   
  
_busu:_ hag 


	4. Progeny Of Evils

_Disclaimer:_ a) I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. The rights to it belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Sony and others I don't remember right now.   
  
b) The quotes I'm using at the beginning of each chapter are from William Shakespeare's _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.   
  
  
  
**A/N**: Thanks for all the reviews, and sorry about the delay! Sorry too that I don't answer each review properly, but I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible. :) Feedback is very welcome.   
  
Saitou's in this chapter, and he will be in the next one too, in that one along with Tokio. Just thought I'd mention it.   
  
**Shameless plug No.2:** If anyone would like to take a look at Chibi Battousai, go to _www.technoelfie.de.vu_ I'd love feedback on that too. ;)   
  


  
  
  
  


**~ Waiting For Hiko ~**

  
  


**_- Chapter 3: Progeny Of Evils-_**

  
  
  
_ And this same progeny of evils comes   
  
From our debate, from our dissension;   
  
We are their parents and original. _   
  
  
At first, Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth didn't react in any discernible way as he stepped out into the garden and saw Kenshin and Aoshi at each other's throats, thankfully without weapons. Sanosuke was complaining loudly about being left out, Yahiko was lying spread-eagled in the grass, seemingly unconscious, and the Kamiya girl was wringing her hands, pale as a sheet.   
  
He walked towards the combatants, taking a moment to squeeze Kaoru's shoulder reassuringly.   
  
"What do you think you're doing, baka deshi?" he inquired mildly.   
  
Kenshin stopped in mid-lunge, turning an insolent golden gaze on his shishou. "Staking a claim," he announced. "Kaoru is _mine_."   
  
"So she's property now," Hiko remarked. "How convenient."   
  
In the background someone yelped.   
  
"Misao, let _go_!" The unnaturally high, terrified tones obviously belonged to Sanosuke.   
  
"I can't! You're just soooo damn sexy!"   
  
Another yelp followed by a brief struggle.   
  
"Let **_go_** dammit!"   
  
"You impertinent _child_!"   
  
"Aw Megumi, shut up already! If Sano'd wanted a hag, he'd have made a move on you already, don't you think?"   
  
Shaking his head, Hiko turned back to his former apprentice, who was squeezing Aoshi's throat in what had to be a rather painful way.   
  
"Let him go, Kenshin," he muttered.   
  
"No! He touched Kaoru. No one touches Kaoru like that and lives!"   
  
Aoshi gurgled something.   
  
Hiko sighed. "Oh, all right then," he said. His eyes narrowed, suddenly aglow with cold, green fire. His hand encompassed the garden in one careless wave.   
  
"**_SLEEP_**," he murmured.   
  
After one last glance at the motionless figures on the ground he turned towards the trees.   
  
"Come," he called. "And next time, call me _earlier_."   
  
With that he walked inside, and the fireflies followed.   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~@ 

  
  
  
  
"Found anything, Kamichi?"   
  
"No, master. Not even a trace anywhere in the house."   
  
Hiko frowned. The spell was brilliantly executed -- only the barest hint of magic, weaving a delicate web, which, so far he could see, encompassed the whole of the Aoiya, leaving the rest of the city untouched. But there was not one magical or enchanted object in the whole house, and the people themselves were untouched.   
  
The spell was also utterly neutral and almost impossible to trace. Still, there was something he'd recognized immediately in the very subtlety of the cast, the way the strands were woven, with all the tensile strength and deceptive frailty of a spider's web. He'd seen that weave before, if only in a long buried memory.   
  
And he didn't believe in coincidences.   
  
Thin, squeaky noises sliced through the air. Azami shivered and covered her sensitive ears.   
  
Hiko rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "As long as the spell is not tied to any object, it's not easy to counter-- Mustardseed, will you _stop_ blowing that damn pipe!"   
  
The elf put the pipe down, which still left him with a lighted cigar in the _other_ corner of his mouth. "I was aiming for atmosphere," he said reproachfully.   
  
"Brilliantly done if you were aiming for a torture chamber. Complete with cats in heat," commented Hiko dryly.   
  
Mustardseed sulked.   
  
"And where's Yumi?"   
  
Something like a grin lit up the elf's morose features. "Late -- as usual. Probably got lost on the way or something, master. You know how she is."   
  
Hiko watched him through narrowed eyes. "_Do_ I, really," he murmured. "I wonder . . ."   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~@ 

  
  
  
  
Travellers on the mountain road to Kyoto -- had there been any at that hour -- would have been surprised to see a slender young woman stumbling along the dusty path struggling with a sack about twice as large as she was. Especially since the contents made those dull noises usually associated with pottery banging together.   
  
They would have been even more surprised if they could have heard her thoughts, which went like this: _Damn stupid little chain-smoking drunkard! I wonder if appearing stupid is worth all this crap . . ._   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~@ 

  
  
  
  
Hiko rose, frowning. "Go," he said. "Search the city. Try to find out where this is coming from, but be _subtle_ about it. You know what the word means, don't you, Mustardseed?"   
  
"Aye sire."   
  
"Very good. Try not to forget again, will you? That applies to all of you."   
  
"Yes master," chorused the spirits.   
  
"And be back by sunrise."   
  
They flew off, leaving their king to the darkness of his thoughts. Fireflies rained in their wake, scattering sparks and magic throughout the city, and strands of magic so thin they were almost invisible.   
  
The web expanded . . .   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~@ 

  
  
  
  
Yoko Fuchida swatted at the air with a piece of cloth, then slid the shoji screen firmly shut. _Damn fireflies._   
  
Then she turned to her husband, who was turning out to be just as annoying as the stupid bugs, if not more. "You don't really want to go to bed with that stupid sheet of paper?"   
  
He frowned, but didn't look up from the drawing he was holding -- cradling, rather. "You don't know what you are talking about, woman. My goddess is perfect. Sublime."   
  
"You goddess is going to land in the trash if you keep acting crazy like that. Now come to bed."   
  
The man caressed the picture lovingly. "I'm quite all right here, thank you very much."   
  
Yoko frowned. This was going too far. Kami knew she was a hard-working woman, and she didn't expect much. But there were a few things she _did_ expect, and this was one of them. He hadn't been complaining so far either; actually, he'd seemed rather content. She made almost as much money as Sae-san, _and_ she was much prettier.   
  
Well, Hasegawa Akira was a gifted artist, and his pictures cost a lot of money . . . but that rapt expression on her husband's face was ridiculous.   
  
"_Will_ you come to bed," she demanded in her sternest tones.   
  
"Go away, ugly," he muttered morosely.   
  
That was _it_. She took hold of the paper and tugged. His fingers tightened instinctively around his half, and there was a loud tearing sound.   
  
His expression of rapt adoration slowly transformed into one of utter horror. It didn't stop at horror though. It only sort of glided through, and emerged into a stony cast of features that was rather frightening in its utter lack of expression.   
  
"Really, Minoru, there's no call to be like--"   
  
He didn't answer her. Sliding the doors aside with care, he made his way to the spotless room where the kitchen appliances were held. There was a little rummaging, and he emerged wearing the same eerily calm expression; only now he was holding something in his hand.   
  
"Minoru, what are you--"   
  
He advanced almost dreamily, gaze never wavering from his wife.   
  
"No, please .. . . Don--"   
  
Blood fountained in a satisfyingly wide arc as Minoru brough the sharp knife down again and again.   
  
He watched dispassionately until the body had stopped twitching, then he went out in the garden and watched the fireflies.   
  
All over the city, love was in the air. He could tell.   
  
  
  


@~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~@ 

  
  
  
  
The sun rose in full splendor the next morning, spilling golden light over the Aoiya's sleeping inmates. A few stirred, obviously still in the grip of deep and disturbing dreams, but none awakened.   
  
The hours passed, unheeded. The shadows grew longer again.   
  
Strangely enough, loud and repeated knocking at the front gate succeeded where a blazingly hot sun had failed.   
  
Sanosuke opened one bleary eye.   
  
There was the irritating knocking again . . . Spitting out a curse, Sanosuke rose and ambled over to the gate. He was puffy-eyed, felt awfully hungover for some reason, and here was the opportunity to blow off some steam.   
  
He pulled open the massive door.   
  
"Saitou-san. What a pleasant surprise! Who's died?"   
  
"Quite a lot of people actually, rooster-head."   
  
Sanosuke squinted at him. "You don't say," he muttered.   
  
"Yes," said Saitou, watching him curiously. "No one important yet, though. Still, everyone is certainly acting peculiar today . . . You wouldn't happen to know anything about this?"   
  
"Which _this_ do you mean, exactly?"   
  
"Ah, Himura. Finally, a man with at least half a brain."   
  
The redhead frowned, and Saitou couldn't help noticing the glint of gold that lit Himura's violet eyes for a moment. "And also a very short temper, at least when it comes to you. Spit it out, Saitou. What's going on?"   
  
"Nothing much, nothing much. I guess you could call it . . . crimes of passion. And since you are here and trouble tends to follow you around, I thought I'd pay you a visit. And your informant friends as well, of course. What use are connections if one doesn't use them, after all?"   
  
"I'm not in the mood for riddles," growled Kenshin. "Elaborate, _please_."   
  
A black eyebrow rose a fraction. Kenshin's usual politeness was conspicually missing, and the gold was becoming more pronounced, too.   
  
Saitou watched him for a moment. "No, I don't think I will," he said finally, registering the amber flash in his opponent's eyes with satisfaction. "Hope you had a nice party."   
  
He touched two fingers to that ridiculous policeman's cap he had taken to wearing and strode off, smiling.   
  
"What was _that_ all about," muttered Sanosuke, scratching his jaw.   
  
"Damned if I know," said Kenshin, but he sounded pensive.   
  
"Well, I'll go grab something to eat. Ya know, Kenshin, I had the weirdest dream tonight . . ."   
  
"Really? About what?"   
  
"Well . . . Misao was ennamored of my ass." Sano shuddered. "The kind of dream that tends to follow you around, if you know what I mean."   
  
"I hope very much I don't know what you mean," Kenshin said, eyeing his friend strangely. "That I do," he added without conviction. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Something to eat, you said? Sounds good . . . that it does."   
  
  
  
  
  
_To be continued . . ._   
  
  
  



End file.
